


Prank Wars Gone Wrong (Or Something)

by Unforth



Series: Tumblr Ficlets: Supernatural [89]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Double Penetration, Fanzines, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, consensual sadomasochism, implied wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 19:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10928871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Tumblr ficlet written to the prompt: How about Sam or Dean's partner (reader, Gabriel, or whoever) finds out that there is a "cult" around the Supernatural books and they deliberately buy bizarre fan stuff and tease the boys with them?





	Prank Wars Gone Wrong (Or Something)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kittyblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittyblack/gifts).



> The past few weeks, I've taken prompts for short fics and written and posted them on Tumblr. I wanted to post them on AO3 as well but have been considering how best to do so. A quick survey of my subscribers and followers suggests that people would prefer if I post them all as individual stories and put them in a series together instead of as multiple chapters on the same file or any other of several options, so that's what I'm doing.
> 
> Please note that I generally do not take "out of nowhere" prompts, cause I don't have time, but I will sometimes ask people to send me ideas and I'll write them in the order I receive them. 
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr at [unforth-ninawaters](unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com).
> 
> Make sure you read the prompt! 
> 
>  
> 
> [~original post~](http://unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com/post/160763026133/hey-sweetie-how-about-sam-or-deans-partner)
> 
>  
> 
> Prompt, from KittyBlack: Hey sweetie! How about Sam or Dean's partner (reader, Gabriel, or whoever) finds out that there is a "cult" around the Supernatural books and they deliberately buy bizarre fan stuff and tease the boys with them? (life sized cardboard Cutout of Sam appearing in the kitchen, Pillow with a Wincest theme, horrible Fan-art printouts appearing at the fridge) Or trick them into going to fan conventions against their will?
> 
> Uh this went horribly off the rails I'm sorry...

“Dean, what the hell is this?” demanded Sam, throwing the book on the table. 

“It’s awesome, right? Check out Page 12, that’s my favorite!” Dean sniggered, grabbed the book, and flipped to the page in question. His dick was _enormous_  on that page, veined, coated in come and blood and worse, and yeah, Dean had to admit he thought it was pretty hot.

“It’s _sick_!” Sam said, disgusted, though Dean caught the sidelong looks Sam gave the page while he pretended to be morally outraged.

“Hey, now, don’t kink shame,” said Dean, half-serious. He actually hadn’t expected Sam’s reaction to be…quite so violently opposed…to the book. Oh, he’d thought Sam would be angry, that was the whole point, but this was a nother level. “It’s a fanzine, and I got it on Kickstarter, and it cost _twenty damn bucks_ , so you show those artists some respect.”

“Dean, it’s an entire book about you and I have sex!” Sam spluttered.

“Quit pretending this is news to you,” said Dean, rolling his eyes. “You want to that damn con just like I did. People dig this stuff.”

“Riiight…but you _hated_  that con, and further, _why do I have to see it_?”

“Pffft, fine,” said Dean, rolling his eyes. “I mean, I thought you’d appreciate the money shot on Page 23 but if you’re gonna be a prissy little bitch just cause some folks on the internet get off on imagining you and I having sex, then I guess I’ll just keep my porn to myself.”

“I’m not being _prissy_  and _why do you have the pages memorized_  and again _I’m not opposed to its existence but I do not want to think about having sex with you_  and _why_  is _this_  your porn and _I am not the bitch didn’t you see the last page_?”

“So you _did_  look,” crowed Dean triumphantly.

Turning on a heel, Sam threw up his hands and stalked from the room.

“I don’t _actually_  want to have sex with you!” shouted Dean.

“Fuck you, Dean!”

“No,” muttered Dean, “ _not_  fuck either of us, that’s the whole point.”

Shaking his head, Dean took up the fanzine and read it for at least the sixth time.

What? The artist was talented! They made Sam damn hot!

Not that Dean thought his brother was hot.

Nope.

There _definitely wasn’t anything else_  to it.

* * *

Frowning, Dean took up the package addressed to him. Generally, he was leery of the mail, but he always forced himself to open things that appeared document shaped, because even after being abandoned for so many years, the Bunker still got some damn interesting, often relevant, mail. So Dean opened it.

A book with a painting of Castiel lifting Dean from hell graced the cover.

Definitely not relevant. 

Frown deepening, Dean dug out the invoice in the package, congratulating Sam on his winning of the _Brotherhood of Angels_  Kickstarter.

_Uh oh._

Dean flipped to a random page.

Yeaaaah, that was Sam and Cas DPing him.

_Does the artist even know how close to biologically impossible that is for anyone who hasn’t had years of porn training?_

Not that Dean knew that.

Not that he’d ever checked.

Dean paged through the book. There were whips and chains involved, bloodplay, _really_  hard core stuff.

It was…

Okay, it was kinda hot…

…maybe Dean had picked up some fucked up kinks while he was in hell…

…but there was _no way_  he was _telling_  anyone that.

And what the fuck was Sam thinking, ordering him a gag gift? Sure, Dean had done it first but the whole point of pranks was to come up with something _new_ and _original_. This was…this was…this was _derivative_.

“Pathetic,” Dean muttered.

Locking the Bunker door, Dean took purposeful strides to Sam’s room, threw the book in, shouted, “you’re welcome, bitch! Next time get your own fuckin’ mail!”

“Ow! What the–” Sam shouted, but the bedroom door closing cut the words off.

Dean stormed to the kitchen. He had dinner to make.

And he really, really didn’t want to think about the things he’d seen in the book.

…didn’t want to _not_  think about what he’d seen in the book…

_But don’t I deserve to be punished for the things I did in hell? And if anyone deserves to administer that punishment it’s Sam, and Cas, and, fuck, everyone I’ve ever fucking met._

Setting a pot to boil, Dean grumbled his way through gathering ingredients, and was surprised to see Cas seeing in the doorway.

“Pasta and meat sauce sound good, Cas?” Dean asked.

“Why did you throw this at me?” Cas held the fanzine toward him.

“I didn’t,” said Dean blankly. “I threw it at Sam.” Cas’ comment processed. “Wait, why were you in Sam’s room? That was _you_  who said ‘ow?’”

“Yes, ‘ow’ is an acceptable response to being hit in the face with a book.” Cas’ finger quotes were especially cute while he was holding the book. “That said, having looked through it–”

“WHAT?”

“–I am partial to…” Cas flipped through the book. Frantic to prevent whatever observation Cas was about to make, Dean strode across the room just in time to be confronted by Cas finding the page he wanted and holding it open. Dean froze, mouth hanging open, staring at the image of himself, danging from chains hung to the ceiling, legs chained to the floor and held wide by a spreader bar, Sam holding a knife to his throat just hard enough to cause of bead of blood to trail down his neck, Cas tracing something unseen over his back. They were all naked, and yeah, the angle that showed Cas full frontal was an abuse of perspective like woah but this way ensured that the reader could see his massive, lubed cock and that his pubic hairs were for some reason feathers. “…this one. How did they know about the feathers?”

A strangled sound was all Dean could manage by way of reply.

“Sam agrees with me,” Cas continued casually, as if oblivious or impervious to Dean’s reaction. “I think something like this would be extremely therapeutic for you.”

_I agree._

_No! No no no what the fuck? How did this prank war go so horribly horribly right?_

_I MEAN WRONG! HORRIBLY WRONG!_

“This one, too,” Cas said, licking a finger to facilitate leafing through the glossy pages. He stopped on a page Dean hadn’t noticed the first time - based on his limited knowledge of BDSM, built entirely from watching bad porn, Dean thought he was looking at aftercare of some kind. The image of him lay on his back, still bleeding from where an Enochian angel unsummoning symbol had been carved into him - probably what Cas had been carving into his back earlier…

_Fucking hell, brain, stop trying to make sense of the fanzine porn! Stop giving it plot! It’s…it’s…_

…and Sam was gently applying lotion and bandages to the wounds while Cas curled up next to him, soothing him. Dean almost thought he could imagine the touch, could imagine the brush of fingers over his back, and…

… _and why did I think Sam was touching gently in the picture? It’s a fucking picture. There’s no way to tell if the touch is gentle or harsh…_

_…wishful thinking, Winchester…_

_…the touches should be harsh. I don’t deserve…_

“Dean?” The sudden concern in Cas’ voice cut through Dean’s burgeoning spiral of self-recrimination. “Are you alright?”

“Do it,” said Dean in a hoarse rush.

Cas blinked at him.

“Fuckin’ - now, before I change my fucking mind,” Dean said. He grabbed the book. “Go get Sam, I’ll get the chains ready in that room we made into a fuckin’ jail cell.”

“No,” said Cas harshly.

Dean froze.

“Right, I’m gross, this is gross, sorry, that’s all you meant, I shoulda realized that–”

“I’ve talked about this with Sam,” Cas interrupted. “ _No unnegotiated kink_.”

“Huh?”

“Cas is right,” said Sam. Dean hadn’t even noticed Sam coming down the hallway. “We have to be reasonable about this - go over boundaries, and you need a safeword. Things can go _catastrophically_  wrong. I don’t want to hurt you, Dean.”

“But–”

“That came out wrong,” Cas scolded. “We _do_  want to hurt you, Dean, but only because we’re pretty sure you want to be hurt. Safe, sane and consensual - those are the keys.”

“What the fuck?” Dean mumbled, looking from his brother to his angel in turn. “What the fuckin’ hell are you two even talking about?”

“Sam and I have a negotiated, safe, sane, and consensual non-sexual sadomasochistic relationship,” Cas explained as if discussing the fucking weather. Sam’s reaction was a perfect, deadpan mirror of a nod. Not even a blush. “And have for some time.”

“With you, it wouldn’t have to be non-sexual,” added Sam.

_ADDED SAM?!_

“You’re trolling me,” Dean said weakly.

“Yes, we are,” Sam replied with a blithe smile.

“Oh thank fucking God.”

Dean’s knees went out.

He was…profoundly disappointed.

_Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it._

“Dean?” Sam exclaimed.

Cas was beside him in an instant, arms supportively around his shoulders.

“It doesn’t have to be prank,” Cas whispered in Dean’s ear, reading Dean’s fucking _mind_.

_He’s not even an angel any longer! How does he do that?_

“Give Sam a few days to get over his triumph at ‘getting you so good’ and we can talk, okay?”

“Yeah…” Dean managed. There was a lot more he wanted to say but not a word would come out. “Thanks, Cas.”

“Anything for you, Dean,” promised Cas. “Anything at all.”

_All I want is exactly what was in that picture…_

_…we have a lot to talk about it…_

_…if I’m really lucky maybe I’ll die in a hunt between now and then…_

“How did this turn into a moment?” Sam exclaimed, his eye roll audible though Dean couldn’t see it with his face tucked into Cas’ neck.

_I should really move._

_But I don’t want to_.

“Anyway, what’s for dinner?”

“Anal sex,” Dean muttered.

“WHAT?”

“Pasta with bolognese,” Dean said more loudly, forcibly pushing himself away from Cas and rising. “Gonna feed you my meat, Sammy.”

“In your dreams, jerk.”

_…yup…_

The fanzine caught Dean’s eye again.

_‘Brotherhood of Angels’ my ass…_

Dean’s gaze met Cas’, a knowing gleam in the angel’s gorgeous eyes, and Dean looked away.

_…prescient, Winchester…prescient…_


End file.
